


It’s all semantics: protocols and reasons to ignore them

by bluebells



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:44:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebells/pseuds/bluebells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Adam is a prostitute who really loves his job and is rather good at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It’s all semantics: protocols and reasons to ignore them

**Author's Note:**

  * For [achillese](https://archiveofourown.org/users/achillese/gifts).



“His name is Michael.”

Adam towelled his hair dry, readjusting the cell phone by his ear as he wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror. “What does the client want?”

“This time he wants to try ‘boy next door’.”

Adam stopped, frowning at his reflection, his toothbrush almost to his lips. “This time?”

“He asked for Dean first . Baulked without getting his money’s worth when he realised tall, pouty and gruff in a leather jacket didn’t get him excited.”

Adam grinned to himself. Dean would have been dumbfounded, his perfect record ruined. 

“First time for everything.”

“Two o’clock, kid. Go easy on the lip gloss,” Zachariah said.

Adam laughed under his breath and ended the call rather than dignify his agent with a reply. Lip gloss. Fucking Zachariah. 

Well, he had an hour to come up with a plan to make Michael forget all about that first sour taste of the agency.

Huh. Agency. A legitimate label, non-descript and unspecific. They could have been selling vegetables, re-routing calls through a comms centre, or helping starving and displaced families in Africa, for the nomination of it as an ‘agency’.

Agency, escort service, Adam didn’t care what term people chose to reduce their blush when they placed the call. In Adam’s line of work, people paid good sums to put him on his knees or on his back, to let him lead them through their fantasies and realise it didn’t have to be a guilty pleasure.

Why couldn’t it just be pleasure?

His agency was called ‘the Host’ and if repeat calls were any indication of his job dedication, Adam had it in spades. He was surprised Zachariah was giving him someone new, but it would be a welcome change.

If he was lucky, Michael might even be hot.

-*-

Michael. Thirty years old. Wanted the boy next door.

Adam could do that.

When Adam opened the door and had his first glimpse of his client, he was certain Zachariah sent him an early birthday present. Or was that Valentine’s, being the nearer event?

It was creepy to think of any Valentine token from that grumpy agent of his.

Michael was six-foot square with lean muscle tone that made Adam guess he ran miles at the gym. Adam might have wagered Michael was a jock if not for his considerate punctuality (it was his money, after all) and the small, nervous smile that flickered to Adam’s eyes when Michael combed fingers back through his dark hair. Not many people could pull of cream suits, either.

Men who walked around without knowing they belonged in Hollywood? Even if it was a ruse, Adam was happy to play along (giddy, even). 

Michael offered his hand and Adam noticed the way he swallowed when Adam took it.

“Hi. I’m Michael.”

“Mm-hmm.” Adam nodded happily. _You’re the hottest thing that’s happened to me in months,_ he wanted to say. _Please don’t blow it._

Michael ducked his head with an embarrassed grin and stepped over the threshold into Adam’s apartment. The door clicked shut behind him.

“And you’re Adam?”

“What? Oh – yes. Yeah. Adam.”

Michael’s grin widened, genuine and pleased. He gestured between them. 

“Michael. Adam. Adam, Michael.”

Adam couldn’t help returning that infectious smile. “Hi.”

Oh god, he sounded like he was twelve again. It was a welcome feeling being taken by surprise in this job. Adam wasn’t attracted to over half of the people who saw him, but it didn’t matter. It was the job. 

They looked at their joined hands and Adam didn’t feel so silly for laughing out loud when Michael laughed with him. 

“Let’s get the formalities out of the way,” Adam suggested.

And just like that, the jittery, gorgeous wreck was back. 

Michael gave him the envelope of money and Adam made sure to keep his smile light. This part of the exchange made a lot of clients feel awkward, reminding themselves they’d had to pay a stranger to meet a need they couldn’t address by the common means. It was best to get it over quickly. Adam’s fingers closed over Michael’s on the envelope and, when they let go, Adam gestured back towards the open living room. 

“Would you like to take a seat? Can I get you a drink?”

“Are you having one, too?” Michael stopped him, like it worried him Adam would go out of his way, and Adam couldn’t keep that stupid smile from creeping back to his face.

“Yeah. I will,” he assured. Michael relented.

“Okay, then, I’ll… I’ll have whatever you’re having.” 

Adam watched Michael follow his sweeping invitation, glancing all around Adam’s apartment as he eased his way towards the black sofa in front of the floor to ceiling windows. He was a sight for sore eyes up front, but from the back….?

Adam would have sent Zachariah a fucking gift basket if the bastard didn’t already take sixty per cent of his cut.

-*-

“Here you go.”

Michael smiled, taking the proffered beer bottle, but it wasn’t that grin full of ease from earlier when he’d taken Adam’s hand. Adam tried very hard not to think it was adorable.

“So, your second round with the agency?” Adam asked, sinking down to the sofa beside him.

Michael nodded, fixated on the bottle he turned in his hands. 

“Yeah, my, um. The first. Didn’t work out.” 

Adam watched him twist that bottle a few more times, drawing circles of condensation on the pale knee of his suit. Adam set his own bottle down on the table.

“Michael. We won’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

Michael placed his bottle beside Adam’s, both untouched. He looked into Adam’s face, chest falling with his shallow breaths. Adam smiled warmly, abruptly realising just how close he’d settled next to Michael on the cushions. It didn’t usually make him flush because Adam was _supposed_ to insinuate himself into the client’s space, to make them comfortable enough to share the same air with a stranger as soon as possible so they could get their money’s worth (because Adam didn’t have Sam and Dean’s rates yet and Zachariah wouldn’t book him for appointments longer than an hour).

“What do you say we run you a nice, hot shower?” Adam cleared his throat and rose from the couch.

It was standard procedure for their hygiene and his, in spite of the fact that Michael looked like he’d just stepped off the magazine rack. Whatever cologne he wore made Adam’ s mouth water. 

“Do you always wear your jacket inside?” Michael asked suddenly.

“What?” Adam straightened, looking down at his green, weathered jacket. Did he pick the wrong one?

“Your jacket, it’s just… are you cold? It looks like you’re on your way out.”

Adam laughed, tucking the collar closer around his front. 

His clients were real people. Everyone knew that prostitutes were paid to do and say exactly what you wanted, but there was a special middle ground to observe. On that Switzerland, it was Adam’s job to play to their fantasy, but respect it.

“Not really.” Adam shrugged, pushing a hand back through his hair. “I thought you might like it.”

Michael gave him a funny look then, and Adam realised his client hadn’t expected the honest answer. Michael’s eyes were green… hazel in the afternoon light.

“I’ll just… get – the shower,” Adam said.

He didn’t expect the hand that caught his elbow, gently pulling him back down to Michael’s side. He slid against the other man’s hip as Michael virtually spilled Adam into his lap, catching Adam’s mouth with ease. Adam barely kept in his noise of surprise. He didn’t think Michael would have the nerve to start and he didn’t expect Michael’s mouth would be so soft and full.

Adam felt the warm palm stroke his neck and he gasped, feeling Michael’s shiver. Just like that, the kiss flickered from curious to ravenous. Michael’s mouth pressed hard and urgent, and Adam clambered to get closer. Michael drew him into the couch with hands on his waist and Adam found himself spread on his back, shoving his jacket off as quickly as he could without losing the heat of Michael’s mouth.

Michael’s shirt was lost when he rose to his knees and helped Adam pull his own shirt over his head. Adam’s hands were already on the buttons of Michael’s pants before Michael kissed him again, breaths coming harshly as he let Adam pull them low and off. He smirked and glanced up into Michael’s flushed face. Michael’s eyes were heavy-lidded, searching Adam’s face as he pushed back the blonde fringe Adam had styled to flick high. Michael’s reddened lips curled around a groan when Adam leaned forward to mouth the bulge in Michael’s briefs. Michael throbbed against his lips through the cotton, and Adam shuddered, imagining what that would feel like sliding down his tongue or between his thighs, forcing him open.

His cock twitched in sympathy. The jerk of his hips bumped Michael’s hand from his zipper and Michael’s attention drifted lower to knead his erection with long, confident fingers. A thrill of pleasure went up Adam’s spine, body trembling with the effort to keep quiet. He couldn’t wait to feel those hands without the denim between them.

“God,” Michael groaned as Adam breathed hotly against him, mouthing wetly at the cotton and thrust into Michael’s perfect hands. Adam couldn’t believe how close he was with just this. If Michael was any other client, Adam would have given in to the wanton moan building in his chest, let Michael feel it through his cock until he was pushing it past Adam’s lips, hitting the back of his throat; but Michael wanted the boy next door. Not the boy with an A+ from whore academy .

His heartbeat was roaring in his ears, perception hot and clouded, but Adam still had enough sense to pull the condom from his pocket.

Michael swiped it from his grasp and Adam grinned, divesting his underwear and jeans with a single hook of his thumbs under the waistband. Michael ripped the packet open with his teeth and Adam snatched the lube from his pile of clothes.

He rarely had to ask the client how they wanted to do this. By this point, it was clear if they still needed direction or Adam should prepare himself. Like the condom, Michael didn’t have any problem taking charge, and popped the cap.

“Don’t be stingy with that stuff.” Adam grinned, seeing Michael had already pushed his briefs down and slipped the condom on himself. It was a shame, Adam thought, his mouth watering as he traced the sharp lines of Michael’s pelvis. Adam had actually considered showing Michael how to put it on with no hands, but that was probably out of character, too.

He was ready to turn onto his knees, but Michael kneeled forward on the couch between his thighs, a hand on Adam’s bare hip. There was no effort to hold in the groan the next time Michael kissed him, searing and unsettlingly sweet as he cupped the back of Adam’s neck. The man’s tongue was amazing. Michael’s breath hitched against his lips when Adam wrapped a hand around Michael and squeezed, stroked him and guided Michael’s lubricated fingers down between Adam’s legs.

The first brush of his fingers along Adam’s rim almost made him bite his tongue. The serious look of concentration on Michael’s face had Adam shivering as Michael drew back, forehead pressed to Adam’s to watch his fingers circle then breach him, painfully slow. Adam’s hips bucked onto Michael’s fingers, shoving the two deeper inside and, _Oh, Jesus Christ, yes_. 

“Is this okay?” Michael asked, sounding breathless, and Adam gasped when Michael flexed his fingers, heart slamming against his ribs.

 _Give me more,_ he wanted to say. _Come on, harder --_

“Yeah.” He nodded, hearing the tightness in his own voice. Michael looked into his face with concern and Adam tapered the mad edge of hunger from his smile because Michael’s ideal didn’t spread their legs unless Michael himself was pushing them apart, they didn’t moan and beg and fuck themselves down onto his fingers.

This was why Adam was a professional and others were not. 

He kept Michael distracted with stuttering, open-mouthed kisses, assuring “it’s okay” every time he poured more lube into Michael’s palm and encouraged him to add another finger. The burn of his muscles drew his eyes closed as Michael stretched him further and further, until he realised his body was lurching back to meet the thrust of Michael’s hand and he was not the one supposed to be losing control here.

Or was that Michael’s fantasy, after all?

If Michael could tell Adam already prepared himself before his client came over, that maybe Adam was putting up less resistance than the usual body, he didn’t mention it.

Michael just bowed against Adam’s shoulder, breath falling harsh on Adam’s skin as his fingers pulled out and he drew Adam’s knee over his elbow. Adam threw out an arm for balance, the leather cushions clinging to his skin as he let Michael guide his hips down. 

Michael reached over him to brace a hand against the couch’s arm, and Adam’s stomach clenched, feeling the head of Michael’s cock slide between his cheeks. After the first touch, Michael thrust in as though he couldn’t help himself. Adam clambered for the man’s shoulders before Michael could apologise and then Michael was grinding in with short, heavy thrusts, tilting Adam’s head back with a high moan as he was stretched even further.

When Michael eventually bottomed out, Adam panted, grinning up at the sight of Michael hovering over him, vibrating with tension as he strained to catch his breath. Michael’s eyes were dark, searching Adam’s face with a curious wonder. For a split second, Adam wondered who he was really seeing.

Only for that moment because then Michael splayed Adam wider with the knee over his arm as he shoved in smooth and hot, and Adam gasped, clamping down hard. 

Fuck, he loved his job.

Michael’s arm remained braced against the couch; his other hand travelled to grip Adam’s hip as Adam ground up against him. Michael set the rhythm – steady and strong, and _fuck_ , Adam could do this all day. What he couldn’t do was keep his mouth off all that gorgeous skin or promise he’d let Michael pull away when they were done because Michael felt perfect.

Adam wrapped his legs high around Michael’s back, rolling his hips to take him in deeper. He relished Michael’s broken moan, held him close to savour that amazing mouth, and Michael had just wrenched a few agonised noises from Adam when the phone rang.

It took Adam a few seconds to understand what he was hearing, since Michael’s pace didn’t falter and he kept driving in between Adam’s thighs even as Adam scrambled for his work cell on the coffee table. 

There was only one person who would call him on that phone and Adam didn’t dare to ignore it.

“Sorry, just—“ Adam trembled as Michael’s mouth dragged wet down his neck and his chest. His fingertips swiped the cell phone as he twisted over and – wow, that was an interesting angle.

Zachariah’s name flashed on the caller ID and Adam cursed. Why the hell would he call in the middle of a job?

Michael’s face was buried in Adam’s neck, sucking wet kisses up behind his ear, when he answered the call.

“Yeah?” Adam panted, struggling to keep his voice as even as possible.

“You didn’t check in. That’s not like you. If you need help, say the word.”

Shit, the protocols. Get the money. Call Zachariah to confirm the client had arrived and Adam was safe. They didn’t even manage to get Michael in the shower.

Adam couldn’t help the small laugh, but it choked in his throat when Michael reached down between them and palmed Adam’s cock.

“It’s fine. It’s – ha.” Adam lost his breath and clung on when Michael’s slick palm squeezed him with the next snap of his hips, shoving them higher up the couch. “’S fine. Talk later.”

Zachariah’s exasperated sigh was like a smack upside the head.

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Yep. Bye.”

The cell phone clattered to the coffee table and Adam smiled when Michael welcomed him back with a sound kiss, fingers brushing the matted hair back from Michael’s forehead. Michael’s hand slid beneath his tailbone and leaned his weight on the hand over Adam’s pelvis. 

“Five or less?” Michael asked. Adam looked dubiously between their bodies to his client.

“You’re confident.” 

But then Michael flashed that brilliant smile, skin glimmering with sweat, and Adam forgot to brace himself before Michael thrust in hard. Adam was trapped between the vice of those hands. He threw his head back, eyes shut tight.

_Holy mother of--_

He was still blinking the white from his vision when Michael ground in again, then again and again, striking rough fire over that bundle of nerves, and Adam melted, arched. It was so much, too good, he couldn’t catch his breath, but Michael left him nowhere to go. Adam’s chest burned with a shout he didn’t have time to release and he came wrapped around Michael, keening as his back bowed off the couch. Michael didn’t give him the chance to recover as his release hit him a moment later, and Adam held on, rocking with the motion as Michael’s hips snapped into him and Michael’s low moan caressed his shoulder.

“Oh God,” Adam panted, when he sank bank down and Michael slumped beside him on the couch.

Normally he would be horrified at coming before the client, but it wasn’t usually the client who wanted (needed) to drive _him_ out of his mind.

Chest heaving as he caught his breath, Adam glanced into Michael’s dazed, sex-flushed expression and saw only bliss, the beginnings of that amazing smile again on his mouth.

Michael brushed the hair from Adam’s forehead and leaned in to kiss him fondly. 

“Thank you,” Michael said, slightly breathless, brushing a thumb across his cheekbone.

Best job ever.

-*-

“And when’s your anniversary?” Adam handed Michael the fresh bottle of beer from the fridge.

Their original drinks had long gone flat at room temperature. Adam poured them down the sink.

“February 14,” Michael said.

“Wow.” Adam winced at the coincidence, settling down on the couch beside him. His back barely ached and Michael had been more than thorough preparing him; he wouldn’t feel more than a twinge by tomorrow. “He was a cunning guy to set that up.” 

Michael smirked, hand twisted in his hair with his elbow propped on the couch. “Actually, I was the one who planned it that way. We would have been together five years next week .”

Adam adjusted Michael’s shirt over himself, appreciating the topless view of Michael on his couch against the windows. He fit right in.

“My longest relationship was with my high school girlfriend. Ten months was a lifetime back then.”

“How did it end?”

“Well, she caught me kissing the quarterback on prom night.”

Michael laughed and shook his head, drinking from his bottle.

“But I see all sorts of people,” Adam said. “Men, women. Doesn’t matter where they come from, their race, size, religion, or orientation.”

Zachariah once said that what they did was a goddamn community service. Theirs might not have been free, but everyone had needs, and Adam was all for equal opportunity if it kept the cash flowing.

Michael gave him an interested look. “Size? Really?”

Adam smirked, resting his hand high on Michael’s thigh. “The bigger the better.”

Michael returned the smirk, linking his fingers with Adam’s. He brought Adam’s hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles.

“Are things simpler on your side, Adam?”

Adam thought about his mother and was thankful, not for the first time, that she lived in the next state. He thought about his twin sister’s reaction when he came out as a prostitute and how livid she’d been when Adam refused to quit. Adam had a good education and options. Adam just chose the path that paid the most in the least amount of time and meant he didn’t have to wade through the muck of relationships to feed his appetite.

But sometimes he wished he didn’t have to lie so much to his mother.

“Not really.” Adam shook his head and raised his bottle to his lips.

A comfortable stillness settled over the apartment. Michael rubbed circles on the back of Adam’s hand and Adam enjoyed the warmth of him along his side. He glanced at the clock and saw their time was almost up.

“Can I see you again?” Michael asked.

Adam smiled in spite of himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [on Livejournal.](http://users.livejournal.com/_bluebells/65576.html)
> 
> Because vessels are a perfect parallel for prostitutes. This fic serves two purposes: 1) a happy birthday to the lovely castiels_vein, and 2) a happy Valentine's to the [adamwinchester community](http://adamwinchester.livejournal.com), where everything is fair game and Adam is never safe.


End file.
